


Chris Shelton Woke Up a Woman!

by thesaddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Crack, Detroit Tigers, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Other, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-01
Updated: 2007-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>On Monday morning, Chris Shelton woke up a woman!</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chris Shelton Woke Up a Woman!

**Author's Note:**

> I blame the very fact this exists on [**3551**](http://3551.livejournal.com/) because she didn’t tell me to kill it when she had the chance. Also, thanks to [**3551**](http://3551.livejournal.com/) for the beta. *ducks rotten fruit and vegetables*
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

On Monday morning, Chris Shelton woke up a woman. He wasn't sure how this could even happen, or why; all he knew was that he, Christopher Bob Shelton was now a woman.

It wasn't even just that his penis was gone – he had breasts too. Presumably, he also had the ovaries to go with it. Shelton didn't care to find out – he was traumatized enough.

Worse yet, there was a game later that evening. How would he explain to Leyland that his starting first baseman was now a first basewoman? 

Shelton wondered if his newfound breasts would hinder his swing, and whether or not his cup would still fit. Hell, he probably didn't even need the cup anymore.

The very thought made Shelton want to cry.

\--

After finally gathering the courage to climb out of bed and perform an extensive exploration of his new body parts to see if his old ones had merely gotten lost, Shelton seated himself on the toilet seat and wept into his hands.

He couldn't have even become an _attractive_ woman. He'd seen pornos where guys woke up after long nights of debauchery to find themselves the spitting image of Jenna Jameson or Pamela Anderson. _He_ just looked like – Chris Shelton if Chris Shelton were a woman.

The ringing of his phone jolted Shelton out of his teary, oh-my-god-I'm-going-to-have-to-quit-baseball-and-go-into-hiding-I'm-so-hideous haze.

Shelton dragged himself off the toilet and back to his bedroom to answer the phone. “Hello?” Shelton cringed. Even his _voice_ sounded feminine.

“ 'lo? Is Shelty there? It's Inge.”

Shelton tried to mask the change in his voice with a cough. It wasn't surprising that his voice had gotten higher, what with the missing testicles and all. “It's me, Brandon. I'm kinda – I kinda came down with something last night,” Shelton coughed.

“Aw, gee, that blows. You gonna be able to go tonight?” Inge asked.

“I dunno,” Shelton said. “I could barely get out of bed to answer the phone.”

Inge clucked his tongue. “Want me and Vance to come over?”

“ _No_ ,” Shelton shrieked, before clapping his hand over his mouth in embarrassment. _God_ , he thought, _I sound like a --_ Shelton slumped on the end of his bed and rested his face in his hand.

“. . . uh, you sure, Shelty? 'cause you don't sound too good,” Inge said, sounding doubtful. “Maybe Rand'll know what to do.”

“No, I can't – I'm contagious! I need to be quarantined!” Shelton panicked.

“Well, I dunno what to say, man.” Inge sounded stumped. “Maybe Rand can give you something. Like Midol.”

“Midol is – ” Shelton made a face. “They give that to women for PMS, Brandon.”

Inge made a thoughtful noise. “Oh, right, I didn't mean Midol. I meant, um, I meant – Motrin! Yeah, Motrin.”

Shelton felt up one of his breasts, glumly. “Maybe you and Vance should come over first. I dunno. I don't think I can come to the ballpark today.” He sighed.

“Well, okay, Shelty. We'll be right over,” Inge said. “Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll be as good as new in no time.”

“Yeah,” Shelton grumbled to the dial tone, “I'm new all right.” He hung up the phone and threw himself back into bed.

\--

Vance Wilson rang the doorbell a second time and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. “He sounded like - _what_?” Vance asked, tapping his foot impatiently. When the second ringing of the doorbell went unanswered, Vance tried to peer in behind the blinds.

Inge whacked Vance on the shoulder. “Don't do that, people will think we're stalking him or something.”

Vance straightened up and shrugged Inge’s hand away. “Well, didn’t you tell him we were coming over?” Vance asked. “We’ve been knocking for – ”

Just then the door opened and the top of Shelton’s carrot-orange head emerged from behind the door. But only the top of his head; the rest of Shelton remained hidden.

“Uh, hey Shelty.” Inge gave a tiny wave, immediately feeling stupid and tucking his arms around himself.

“Hey man.” Vance reached to push the door back, but Shelton clamped his hands in place.

“Come in, but – but don’t look at me!” Shelton yelped.

Inge and Vance shared _looks_ but did as Shelton ordered, following him into the foyer. Shelton was swaddled in a big, fluffy white robe, the collar pulled up to his chin.

“Man, you must really be sick,” Inge said, patting Shelton on the shoulder. He flinched back when Shelton recoiled, as if he thought Inge was going to hurt him. Vance raised his eyebrows at the scene.

“Yeah,” Shelton said, coughing into his fist. “C’mon and I’ll grab you guys some beers.”

Vance followed Shelton and Inge into the kitchen, checking his watch. “You know, BP’s in an hour. We ought to make this quick.”

“I’m not playing today,” Shelton hacked, bustling to the fridge and grabbing some Bud Lights, hips swaying.

Vance furrowed his brow but declined to comment on _that_ , as curious as it was. “Well,” he said. 

Shelton thumped the beers down on the kitchen table and took a seat. “It’s a long story,” he sighed, peering at the two of them from behind the high collar of his robe.

Inge picked up his beer and uncapped it, taking a long pull. “We’ve got, what, an hour. Start talkin’.”

Shelton sighed. “This is _so_ embarrassing,” he moaned.

Vance took a seat across from Shelton, sipping at his beer. “C’mon, Shelty, it’s just me and Brandon. You can tell us _anything_.” He nodded to Shelton and offered him an overly friendly smile. 

Shelton didn’t bite. “I’ll never be able to show my face on a baseball field _again_ ,” he wailed.

Inge looked at Vance over Shelton’s bowed head and raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure whatever it is isn’t that bad, man.”

Shelton raised his beer and rolled down the collar of his robe to sip. “Something’s wrong with me.” Shelton pouted into his beer.

Vance nodded silently, studying Shelton with an artist’s attention to detail. “You _do_ look a little – off,” Vance supplied helpfully. That only made Shelton sigh and cover his face with his hands.

Inge rubbed Shelton’s shoulder gently. “Maybe if you tell us, we can help you figure something out,” he said.

“Okay. But promise you won’t laugh?” Shelton tugged at the sash of his robe, shifting uneasily and crossing his legs.

“We promise,” Inge said, holding up his palm as a sign of his sincerity.

Shelton sighed again and pushed his robe off his shoulders.

Vance’s jaw dropped. “Are you, um. Are you wearing a – a _bra_?” he stuttered.

Inge was too busy choking on a mouthful of beer to speak.

Shelton turned fire engine red. “Yes,” he replied, meekly. He let the robe fall completely to the kitchen tiles.

“You have _tits_ ,” Inge wheezed. “Like, _actual_ ones and not just mantits. What – what the hell _happened_?”

“Have you been taking steroids?” Vance asked seriously. That set Inge off on another round of wheezing coughs and Shelton hung his head.

“ _No_! But that’s not the worst of it,” he wept. “I’m – I’m a woman!”

Vance peered closer at Shelton. At Shelton’s newfound breasts, the fuller roundness of his already well-padded hips and the distinct lack of a bulge where one normally was. “Uh,” was all Vance could say. He took a long pull of beer and averted his gaze.

“. . . I don’t believe this,” Inge finally said, having recovered from his coughing fit. “I – don’t believe this. How does this even happen? Are you _sure_ it wasn’t steroids?”

“I think I would know what I put in my body!” Shelton retorted, glaring at Inge wetly, tears streaking down his cheeks.

Vance sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well. You could strap ’em down or something,” he said, pulling an arm free to gesture to Shelton’s chest.

“That doesn’t exactly solve my problem,” he muttered.

“You could at least play. If no one noticed the, you know, the breasts.” Vance shrugged, shoulders flagging. “I really don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen this before. Obviously.”

Shelton pouted and reached into his bra to adjust. Inge and Vance watched closely and when Shelton looked up, both turned their eyes to their beers. “Well? What am I gonna do?”

“Don’t look at us,” Inge said, holding up his hands, palms out. “This is _way_ out of our league.”

Shelton sipped at his beer without really tasting it, gravity dragging the corners of his mouth into a frown. He fiddled with the strap of his white cotton training bra. “I should’ve gotten one with underwire,” he said.

“Nah, they look fine,” Vance said. He paused. “Uh, not that I was looking.”

Inge shot Vance a look across the table. “Suuure.” A flash of a smile streaked across Inge’s face. “I bet you wanna feel ’em up.”

Vance gaped. “Shut up! I do not!”

“Haha, you totally do! You perv!” Inge giggled and pointed at Vance, eyes scrunching up at the corners. Shelton just looked horrified beyond belief.

“Shut up!” Vance yelped.

Inge cackled maniacally.

“I can’t take anymore of this!” Shelton leapt up from his seat, knocking over his can of Bud Light, amber liquid spilling across the table. “I can’t handle this!” He turned and fled up the stairs. A resounding thud echoed as Shelton slammed his bedroom door shut.

“Good going, Brandon,” Vance sneered. He got up and pushed his chair in, finishing off his beer with a long pull. “I suppose we have to go do damage control now.”

Inge picked up a pile of napkins and brought them over to sop up the spilled beer. “ _You_ can do damage control. Up his ass,” he teased, before pausing. “Although, if he’s a chick now . . .” Inge got a wet napkin in his face in response. “No, if he’s a chick now, you could totally fuck him.”

“I’m – _what_? That logic doesn’t even make sense,” Vance grumbled.

“No, really! You could totally fuck him and it wouldn’t even be like fucking a dude, ’cause he has a pussy now!” Inge’s eyes brightened, like he’d just discovered the meaning of life.

Vance rolled his eyes, turning the empty beer can in hand. “You’re stupid.”

“Stupid – like a _fox_!” Inge beamed.

Once they were finished cleaning up the spilled beer, the two of them went to check on Shelton. He left the bedroom door unlocked, so Vance and Inge let themselves in and stood at the foot of his bed.

Shelton was lying facedown, a pillow pulled over his head.

“Hey,” Inge said, nudging Shelton’s calf with his knee. “You okay?”

Shelton mumbled something that they couldn’t make out.

Vance prodded him on the sole of his foot. “C’mon, Shelty, talk to us.”

Shelton sat up and pushed the pillow away, wiping at his face with the back of his hand. Although his hands were softer and more feminine now, he still had the calluses from a life lived on the baseball diamond.

Vance sat himself at the foot of Shelton’s bed and Inge squeezed in next to him. “How are you feeling?” Vance asked.

Shelton paused briefly before replying. “Confused.”

“Don’t blame ya,” Inge chimed in, reclining back on his elbow. “So’re we.”

“I mean.” Shelton stalled, wringing his hands. “How long is this gonna – stick? What if it never goes away? I mean, I haven’t always liked baseball so much, but I can’t imagine never playing again.”

Vance reached out tentatively, sliding his palm over Shelton’s knee and giving him a small sympathetic smile. _He_ had been faced with the prospect of never playing again; while he had never woken up a woman before, he could definitely relate on some level.

Shelton lowered his face in his hands. “I’m so scared.”

Vance moved his hand off Shelton’s knee. “So are we, man, so are we.”

Inge nudged Vance in the small of his back with the point of his bent elbow. “Dude,” Inge hissed under his breath, “fuck him.”

Vance turned and gave Inge a glare. “ _You_ fuck him.”

“Maybe it’ll cheer him up,” Inge whispered.

Vance paused to consider Shelton before replying. “I’m not _fucking_ him, Brandon.”

“Not - what?” Shelton looked up, blinking innocently.

Vance offered Shelton a nervous smile. “Um, Brandon thinks – _ow_ , Brandon!” Vance rubbed at his back and shoved Inge’s elbow aside.

“Vance wants to put his dick in your lady parts,” Inge said, cutting straight to the point, as he tended to do.

“My – my _what_!” Shelton’s eyes bugged out in shock.

“Vance wants to fuck you.” Inge grinned.

Shelton looked at Vance, eyes still wide in shock and, presumably, horror. “You want to – to . . .” Shelton trailed off, voice withering and dying.

“Inge thinks I should fuck you,” Vance said.

Shelton looked at Inge. “ _Why_?”

Inge shrugged. “It could be fun. Plus, I heard the female orgasm is just a myth. You could tell us for sure if it really exists.”

“I’m not a _woman_! I might have the, uh, parts, but I’m still Christopher Bob Shelton where it counts!” Shelton tapped a hand over his left breast.

Inge nodded slowly. “So,” he said, “do you have one or not?”

“One what?” Shelton asked.

“A pussy.” Inge tugged at the leg of Shelton’s boxers.

“I’m not telling you that!” Shelton gasped, knocking Inge’s hand away with his knee. The leg of Shelton’s blue-and-white check printed boxers rode up to reveal his soft white inner thigh. He tugged it back down, flushing modestly.

“You shaved your legs.” Vance couldn’t hide a grin. Neither could Inge.

“Well. Yeah!” Shelton scowled, sitting Indian style and crossing his arms over his unwieldy breasts. “I was starting to get a little stubbly – oh my God.”

Inge howled with laughter, slapping his hand on his knee. “You’ve totally gone chick!”

“I have not!” Shelton cried. “I – I haven’t, right guys?” He looked from Inge to Vance, his eyes going big and scared.

Inge nodded seriously. “Yeah, you kinda have, man.” He paused. “But it’s all right. We still like you.”

Vance nodded in agreement. “We’re a team. We stick together.”

Inge picked up Vance’s hand and put it on the inside of Shelton’s thigh. “Especially in times of need,” he said, moving Vance’s hand up to the waist of Shelton’s boxers. Vance just watched as Inge tugged his hand along Shelton’s inner thigh.

Shelton squirmed. “I dunno, Brandon . . .” He gently pushed Inge’s and Vance’s hands away from his waistband.

“C’mon,” Inge pressed on, rolling the elastic waistband down himself. “Could be your one chance to experience the Love Rollercoaster that is Brandon Inge.” He beamed.

Shelton hid his face in his hands and groaned. “Ugh.”

Inge prodded at Vance with his elbow and nodded to him. Vance just stared back blankly. Finally, Inge turned back to Shelton and grinned. “Isn’t that how this stuff usually works?” he asked, still working at Shelton’s boxers. “The guy-turned-chick has to fuck, uh, his buddies to go back to guy form?”

“I – wouldn’t know,” Shelton fibbed. He allowed Inge to ease his boxers down his hips.

“Well, maybe that’s what’ll – cure what ails you.” Inge felt like a genius, like Albert freaking Einstein.

Shelton sighed. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well, we’re your buddies. We’ll fuck you,” Inge said, benevolently. He finally tugged Shelton’s boxers down all the way and discarded them. Inge began to giggle. “The carpet matches the drapes.” That earned him a punch to the side of the head from Vance and a kick to the thigh from Shelton. “Owww.”

Shelton closed his eyes, turning bright red. He wondered if it was possible his head could explode from so much blood rushing to it in such a short timespan. “Just get on with it,” he sighed.

Inge pushed Vance between Shelton’s legs. “Get on with it,” he said.

“What about you?” Vance glared back at Inge.

“I’ll watch from the side and step in if need be.” Inge nodded.

Vance turned and looked back at Shelton. He drew a hand over one of Shelton’s breasts and caressed it for lack of anything better to do.

“You should take off his bra first,” Inge piped up.

“Shut up.” Vance slid a hand under Shelton, to fumble with the clasp of his bra. “How did you even figure out how to get this thing on?”

Shelton looked away. “Uh. I used to practice, um, unhookingbrasoffblowupdolls when I was in high school,” he mumbled.

Vance leaned over Shelton, brow furrowed deep in concentration. “Damn it, I can’t – oh, there it goes.” He finally undid the hook in back and Shelton shrugged the bra off. Vance regarded Shelton’s breasts admiringly. “Those are pretty nice. Better than most tits I’ve seen.”

Shelton flushed some more. “Uh, thanks.”

Inge whistled. “Most chicks I know would kill for those kinds of boobs,” he said, with a nod. “Heck, I know a little lady at home who’d kill for those.”

Vance tossed the bra to Inge and looked down at Shelton, offering him a friendly smile. “You know, if this doesn’t work, you could always do porn. Lots of guys get off on this sort of thing.” Vance reached down to undo his fly. Shelton swallowed. “I mean. I wouldn’t, normally. But you have really nice knockers.”

“Thanks.” Shelton offered Vance a weak smile back.

Vance kicked his pants away and pushed his own boxers down, bracing himself above Shelton with one arm. “Uh, wait. Should we do foreplay or something? Don’t chicks like that?” He looked back at Inge for confirmation.

Inge nodded and flicked his tongue at Vance.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” Shelton squeaked.

“Well, okay. But my wife likes it. You might like it too.” Vance sat back to pull off his shirt.

Shelton sighed and sat up to help Vance with the removal of his shirt. “I don’t know. I’ve never been a chick before.” He tossed Vance’s shirt to Inge, who collected it and folded it and placed it on top of Vance’s jeans and Shelton’s bra.

“Obviously,” Vance said, admiring Shelton’s breasts.

Shelton flopped back in bed and rested his hands on his stomach. Then he paused. “Uh, we should probably take precautions, right?”

Vance blinked. “. . . uh.”

“You know,” Shelton said, waving his hand. “In case, um, something _really_ funny happens.”

“Oh, right.” Vance nodded to Inge. “Condom me.”

“Aye aye, cap’n.” Inge dug around in Vance’s back jeans pocket, coming up with a foil-wrapped condom.

Vance handed the condom to Shelton. “There ya go.”

“I meant for _you_ ,” he said.

“I know. I mean, you should put it on me. ’cause that’s what the women usually do,” Vance said, nodding for emphasis.

Shelton cringed but tore open the foil wrapper anyway, pulling the condom out with his thumb and forefinger, like it was a disgusting bug or something. “Ugh.”

Both Vance and Inge watched Shelton, rapt.

Shelton rolled the condom on, trying not to look but unable to avoid it. Vance and Inge watched closely as Shelton’s stubby white fingers smoothed the rubber down and got rid of the wrinkles and air bubbles. Vance drew in a breath and Shelton pulled his hand back.

“Sorry,” Shelton said.

“No. That was all right,” Vance said. “So. Anyway.” He looked at Shelton and nodded.

Shelton lay back and looked up at Vance with those big scared bulging eyes. “Please go slow,” he said, quietly.

Vance smiled and nodded, leaning down to give Shelton a kiss on the forehead. “Whatever you say, man.” He moved his mouth lower, kissing the top of Shelton’s breast.

Shelton closed his eyes, determined to at least _try_ and enjoy the experience.

Vance squeezed Shelton’s breast and paused, gauging his reaction. Shelton stirred slightly underneath Vance and he took that as a sign to continue on.

Inge moved the pile of clothes off the bed and crawled closer, riveted to the scene before him. “Damn, I wish had my camera,” he muttered.

“What?” Vance looked up from Shelton’s boobs.

“Nothing, carry on.” Inge waved his hand at them.

Vance kissed the space between Shelton’s breasts before moving back up the length of his body. “How was that?” he asked.

“That was – ” Shelton paused. “ – okay.”

Inge reached out and petted a hand in Shelton’s orange hair. “You look good with long hair, has anyone ever told you that?” Inge inquired.

“No. I’ve never had long hair before this,” Shelton replied.

“Shut up. You’re breaking my concentration.” Vance maneuvered himself between Shelton’s legs and hooked one hand around his squishy thigh. Shelton closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. “Just tell me if I hurt you, okay?”

Shelton nodded. “Okay.”

Inge sat back and crossed his arms behind his head.

Vance bowed his head on Shelton’s shoulder and reached between their waists to adjust himself. He rubbed the tip of his dick against Shelton’s opening, and swallowed hard. He’d never had a woman who was this warm or wet. Vance closed his eyes and willed himself not to go too hard or too fast. For all he knew, Shelton was still a virgin. Technically. Vance shut off that part of his brain and eased his hips forward slowly.

Shelton paused before putting his arms around Vance’s neck. He held himself very still before saying, “Um.”

“Um?” Vance paused, half-way in.

“I don’t think it’s going to, uh, fit,” Shelton stammered.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’ll be fine,” Vance said, panting. He pushed forward before meeting resistance. He paused. “Fuck, you’re a virgin.”

“Duh,” Shelton said.

Vance sighed. “Well, obviously you know where _this_ is going,” he said.

Shelton winced. “Is it, is it gonna _hurt_?” he asked, tightening his arms around Vance’s neck.

“Well maybe just a little bit,” Vance said. “But I’ll try to be really gentle.”

Shelton did not look convinced. “O – okay,” he said.

Vance closed his eyes and pushed forward, hard and fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Shelton gasped sharply and squeezed his arms tight around Vance’s neck. “You okay?” he asked, pausing once more.

“It, it hurts,” Shelton said.

Vance pulled away to check for blood. He located a tiny spot of blood between Shelton’s thighs and beamed. “Hey, I popped your cherry!”

Shelton groaned.

“Do you wanna, you know, continue?” Vance asked, settling back over Shelton.

“Um. I guess so.” Shelton shrugged, or at least tried to.

“All right.” Vance reached down and straightened himself, and stroked his hips deep into Shelton, shuddering at the warmth, and the tightness. “Wow,” he said.

Inge watched this all very closely. Or rather, watched Shelton’s breasts as they rose and lowered with each breath. If you could just put a bag over his face, you could almost forget that it wasn’t Chris Shelton, your best buddy on the team, who was getting fucked by your other best buddy. Inge focused entirely on Shelton’s chest.

Vance tried to angle his thrusts, bracing himself over Shelton with both arms. Shelton shifted underneath him and Vance pulled his leg around his waist.

Shelton scrunched his face and Vance paused. “You all right?” Vance asked.

“Um, yeah.” Shelton’s forehead smoothed as he attempted to relax.

“Okay.” Vance resumed fucking Shelton deep into the mattress, putting everything he had into it. Idly at the back of his mind, Vance wondered what would happen if Shelton had an orgasm. Would his breasts disappear? Would Shelton’s lady parts disappear too? What would happen if he was still inside him? Would he get stuck to Shelton – forever? Vance stopped thinking and resumed his urgent thrusts.

Shelton squirmed some more under Vance. “Something tickles.”

“I hope you don’t mean my dick,” Vance grunted.

Shelton closed his eyes again. Vance moved his hips in circles, sweat trickling off his chin, dripping onto Shelton’s chest. Shelton dug his fingernails into the back of Vance’s neck and tried to jerk his hips his away from Vance’s.

“Stop,” he yelped.

“What?” Vance managed to halt, breathing hard.

Shelton shuddered, muscles tensing. “It’s – it’s too much,” he said, voice trembling.

Vance looked down at Shelton’s flushed chest and grinned. He leaned forward and grazed his teeth over Shelton’s shoulder. “Ya know, you’ll probably enjoy it better if you let me finish you off,” he said with a grin.

“But - !” Shelton couldn’t complete the thought.

“You’re going to have an orgasm, duh.” Vance pumped his hips once. Shelton twitched.

Inge perked from his end of the bed. “So I guess female orgasms really _do_ exist,” he said brightly.

“Looks like it.” Vance looked back at Shelton. “So, what’ll it be?”

“Um.” Shelton shivered again. “O – okay.”

Vance nodded. “That’s all I needed to hear.” He started fucking Shelton again in hard, driving thrusts. Vance motioned with one hand to Inge. “Hey Ingey, give us a hand here.”

“What?” Inge looked up in surprise and muted Judge Mathis, putting down the television remote.

“C’mere,” Vance said.

Inge did as Vance asked and shuffled closer on his knees. Vance reached out and grabbed Inge by the wrist. “What – ”

Vance slid Inge’s hand between his and Shelton’s waists, curling his fingers around Inge’s thumb. “Just shut up and let me do this.” Vance moved Inge’s hand over Shelton’s vagina.

“Dude, I’m touching your dick,” Inge squealed.

“No. Rub here.” Vance directed Inge’s fingers.

Inge did as Vance instructed, rubbing his thumb over what he assumed was most likely Shelton’s clit. The very thought made Inge want to giggle, but he figured that would probably not be the best idea. It could hurt Shelton’s self-esteem.

Shelton tipped his head back and groaned. He quivered slightly underneath Vance, clenching a hand into the comforter. Inge closed his eyes and kept rubbing.

“For the good of the team, for the good of the team,” Inge muttered under his breath.

Shelton bit hard on his bottom lip. “Oh,” he sighed. “That’s kind of – nice.”

Inge rubbed harder at that. Shelton began to shake under Inge’s hand and he paused in his ministrations. “You o – ” He couldn’t finish his sentence because Shelton had seized him by the wrist and gave him a gentle tug. “Okay, okay.” Inge resumed rubbing his fingers over Shelton’s clit. Inge paused before drawing it between his fingers and squeezing. Shelton yelped and Inge offered him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

Vance shuddered at the various sensations and gripped Shelton by the hips, pounding into him ruthlessly and without abandon. “Fuck,” Vance gasped.

Inge made a face as his fingers accidentally came into contact with Vance’s dick.

Shelton tensed, digging his fingers into the back of Vance’s neck. “I think I’m – ” Shelton tightened his legs around Vance’s hips, trapping Inge’s hand between his crotch and Vance’s dick.

Inge sighed.

Shelton squeezed himself around Vance and shook, and Vance bent his head to kiss Shelton on the mouth hard. Inge raised his eyebrows but kept rubbing, until he couldn’t take it anymore and pulled his hand away. Inge looked at the sticky mess on his fingers and made a face.

Shelton loosened his grip on Vance and flopped back in bed, breathing hard. Vance sprawled over Shelton, trying to catch his breath, and sighed.

“Think I may have to call in sick too,” Vance breathed.

Inge wrinkled his face and wiped his hand on the comforter. “Leyland’ll just _love_ that.”

Vance rolled off of Shelton and onto his back, still panting. “Wow,” he said.

Shelton didn’t move, scratching idly at his breast. “That was. Interesting.”

“Sure was,” Vance agreed. He removed the condom and held it out to Inge. “Get rid of this, will ya?”

“Ew, I am _not_ touching that,” Inge whined.

“Just kidding.” Vance tied it off and climbed out of bed to dispose of it.

Inge rolled onto his elbow and looked over a Shelton. “So, how you feelin’?” he asked. “Still – a chick?”

Shelton nodded. “So far, yeah. I guess it takes a while or something.”

Vance padded back over to the bed and collapsed between them, facedown in the pillows. “I need a nap.”

Inge looked at his hand. “I think I need to boil my hand.”

Vance edged closer to Shelton and draped an arm around his waist, pressing his face against his shoulder. “Naptime.”

Inge glanced at his watch. “Only got, like, a half an hour or so,” he said. “I’ll wake you up.”

“ ’kay, thanks,” Vance muttered into Shelton and closed his eyes.

\--

Shelton stirred and stretched, every muscle in his body aching – some muscles he wasn’t even aware he had until that point. Vance still had his arm around Shelton’s waist, out like a light. Shelton nudged him gently.

“Huh – wha,” Vance snorted awake.

“It’s probably time to get ready for BP,” Shelton said, moving Vance’s arm from around his waist. “Fuck, I gotta take a piss or else my bladder’ll explode.”

“Oh, right, BP.” Vance rolled onto his back and sat up slowly, arching and cracking his back. “Wonder where Ingey went.”

Shelton got out of bed and wandered to the bathroom. He stood in front of the toilet and lifted up the seat. “I dunno, maybe he went to make himself a snack or something,” he suggested.

Vance crawled back under the covers and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms snugly around a lumpy pillow. “Mmmhmmm.”

A high-pitched, frightened shriek roused Vance out of bed and summoned him to the bathroom.

“What is it?” Vance peered in.

“It didn’t work,” Shelton wailed, “I’m still a woman!”

Vance regarded Shelton’s breasts and nodded. “Yeah, looks like it.” He made a thoughtful noise. “Isn’t that how those movies usually work? The dude-turned-chick gets fucked by his best friend and turns back into a dude?”

“I fucked you for _nothing_?” Shelton screamed.

“It was _not_ nothing!” Vance sounded injured.

Shelton screamed again and shoved Vance out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut and latching it.

“Dude, what’s goin’ on? I made us a snack before we go.” Inge tapped Vance on the shoulder and held up a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“It didn’t work,” Vance said with a sad look. “He’s still a – she.”

Inge sighed and lowered the plate of sandwiches. “I guess he’s not hungry then.” He shoved the plate into Vance’s midsection. “What’re we gonna do?”

“I don’t know, man. But we need him tonight. Casey’s hammy is acting up again,” Vance said, picking up a sandwich and gnawing on the crust.

“I’ll be right back.” Inge departed and scampered down the hall.

Vance nibbled on the sandwich. “Hey, Brandon made us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Are you hungry?” Vance asked.

“No! I’m never coming out of the bathroom - _ever_!” Shelton wailed. “I’m _hideous_!”

“Now, don’t be melodramatic,” Vance said mildly, nibbling at the crust of his sandwich.

“I’m not being melodramatic!” Shelton started crying again.

Vance sighed and went to put the dish on top of the dresser. “Let me in, Shelty,” he said, returning to the door and jiggling the knob.

“No.”

Inge reappeared with a roll of duct tape and tube socks. “We can just strap down his boobs with the tape and he can stuff his cup. Hell, the tube socks are probably bigger than his real dick.”

There was a muffled sob on the other end of the door.

“I think he heard that,” Vance said, rolling his eyes. He took the socks and tape from Inge. “C’mon out, Shelty. Inge has an idea.”

Shelton opened the door a sliver. “What sort of idea?” he asked.

Vance passed him the duct tape and tube socks. “You can strap your boobs down with the tape and stuff your pants with the socks and no one will be the wiser,” Vance said.

Shelton sighed and took the socks and tape from Vance, shutting the door. A few seconds later, he opened the door again. “Can you please pass me my clothes?” he asked, holding out a hand.

“Sure.” Vance picked up Shelton’s shirt and pants and brought them over. “There ya go.”

Shelton took his clothes from Vance and shut the door. A few minutes later he emerged, red face fresh-scrubbed, eyes still wet. “H – how does it look?” He held out his arms and turned so Vance and Inge could inspect him.

“You almost can’t even tell,” Inge said. His eyes drifted down to Shelton’s groin. “Um, I think you overstuffed your socks.”

Shelton pushed past Vance and Inge and sunk into his mattress with a weary sigh. He covered his face with his hands and sighed again. “How much time do we have,” he asked.

Inge looked at his watch. “We’ve only got – like, less than half an hour. We should get going.” He picked up Vance’s jeans and flung them into his face. “Put your damn pants on.”

\--

Shelton stepped up to the plate and rubbed the top of his batting helmet before raising his bat and resting it over his shoulder. He stared out toward the center field wall, crawling with ivy.

The opposing team’s pitcher stepped onto the mound and toed the rubber before leaning in for the signs.

Shelton squeezed his hands around the bat handle and dug in his cleats.

The pitcher fired to home and Shelton swung for the fences.

The ball whistled out of the park and jets of water exploded from the outfield wall. Shelton trotted around the bases, smiling to himself a bit. 

_Just like normal_ , he thought to himself, reserved smile widening into a happily unrestrained grin.

As he stepped onto home plate and pointed to the sky, he noticed his teammates standing at the lip of the dugout, gaping at him.

“What is it?” Shelton blinked, confused.

Inge was pointing – down. Shelton looked down. His bulge was gone.

“ _Nooooo_!” Shelton wailed. “Where did it go?!”

“Uh. It’s over there.” Inge pointed back toward the diamond.

Sure enough, Shelton’s tube socks were laying on third base.

Shelton turned and fled down the dugout steps for the clubhouse, weeping.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


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